


Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

by faerywhimsy (persephone20)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Hurt No Comfort, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-31 09:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone20/pseuds/faerywhimsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody thinks of John after Sherlock's fall, but what about Molly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

In all of her life, Molly has only done two illegal things.

When she was seven, the son of a friend of the family was encouraged to invite Molly out with him and some friends. Molly had a difficult time making friends in primary school. There weren't a lot of kids who had time for the one who stood out because of her stutter. Molly spent a lot of time walking around the school yard with teachers because they were the only ones who wouldn't tell her to go away.

When her mother told her she was to go play with Simon and his friends, Molly's terror followed close on the heels of her excitement. What did she know about hanging around with other kids, making friends or having fun? What made her think that these children would be any different from the ones at school, the ones who could see right through her and knew that there was no point in hanging around with her? Molly never knew exactly what it was that was wrong with her. If any of them had bothered to tell her, didn't they think she would have done everything she could to make it right?

In the end, her mother had to hold her hand and physically draw her out into the front yard where Simon, and all of his friends, were waiting for Molly.

If they thought Molly didn't realise this didn't endear her to the other children, they were wrong.

The jibes started not long after they were out of range of the parents' hearing. 

"Aw, what did you do wrong to get saddled with _her_?"

"She can't even come out on her own, needs her mummy to hold her hand."

"She's a baby. Aren't you Molly? Baby, baby, baby!"

Sometime between their houses and the local shops, Simon must have realised that if they kept making fun of Molly the whole time, it would get back to his mum and he would get in trouble.

He fell in step with Molly and she looked at him sharply. Warily.

"What's your favourite chocolate, Molly?"

The other kids went suddenly quiet, like they were waiting for the punch line. 

Molly licked her lips, and tried to anticipate the punch line so she didn't inadvertently step into it. Unfortunately, the punch line was never clear to her. 

"F-fantails," she answered shyly.

Simon just nodded, then nodded to all of his friends. When Molly looked at them, she could see them all grinning at her.

"Tell you what. We'll go in there and distract the owner while you take as many fantails as you can."

Molly's eyes widened. "I c-can't do that!" she spluttered.

"Why?" Simon's eyes widened into perfect circles of innocence, but Molly was beyond seeing that. Just the continuing smiles on all the other children's faces told her she wasn't going to get support from any of them. 

"Because it's illegal!" she told them all anyway, hoping they'd hear.

They heard all right, and a series of 'oooh's and cat calls abounded. 

Molly turned to Simon, who hadn't moved at all. 

"If you do this," he said, "we'll let you hang out with us all the time."

After all of this, Molly wasn't sure that she wanted to hang out with them all the time, but she nodded, mostly to get them to stop making such a ruckus outside the sweet shop. The longer they were standing here, the sooner the owner was bound to notice. 

 

It's different when Sherlock approaches her and asks her to help fake his death. For starters, she's the one who asks him, "What can I do?"

As soon as he starts to answer, it feels like they've been leading up to this almost from the day they'd met.

Doesn't mean that she's not terrified. 

Inside of Molly, as she signs those post mortems, is that seven year old girl being heckled into stealing fantails from a sweet shop. That she got away with it then didn't make the chocolates any lighter in her pocket, didn't make her back prickle less just expecting the shop owner to start yelling at her any second. Didn't make the congratulations of the other children any sweeter. 

She was invited to hang around with them again any time, as promised, but she never did. Her mum never understood why. 

After the Reichenbach Fall -as the media tabloids coin it virtually from the minute it happens- seeing Sherlock is one of the first things she does. 

He takes her by the shoulders, and it is absolutely nothing like she has always wanted it to be because she can see him looking inward and he's not seeing her there when he holds her.

"Thank you." He presses his forehead against hers, and Molly can't help but shed a sympathetic tear for all he has lost. Yes, they have saved his life, but at what cost?

"You're welcome," she whispers back, and in her voice is the last ditch effort of reaching him through the love she has for him, willing it to make a difference.

As he sets her aside from him, she sees once and for all he knows her feelings of love, and it doesn't make any difference in the world. 

After he turns the corner and is gone, she may never see him again. All that will be left of him is the falsified post mortem and the grief of everyone left behind.

From that point that the guilt and fear bite into her. Guilt for the illegal action she has taken, and fear for what it will mean should she be found out. Moriarty's web is far from disbanded, Molly knows that, and she knows also that this is only one of the dangers that she faces should anyone go investigating into Sherlock Holmes' death. 

She cries at the funeral. She notes John standing across from her. John, and Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade, and somehow that just makes her cry harder. Sherlock's plan worked and they are all safe, even though he had worried and paced and fretted they would not be. In the beginning, her crying is partially to keep up the pretence; few people remained unaware of the unrequited love she left burning for the man supposedly just buried. Seeing John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade all humbly present -broken, but present still- shows her that part of the plan succeeded. But the fact that one part of the plan succeeded only means it will hit harder when - _if_ \- another part fails. 

She has never been that great an actor, and seeing John, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade only highlights the continuing danger to herself. The real place her tears come from is the secret fear that never quite goes away. The thickness in the back of her throat. The tension across her shoulders that grows so bad she has to start seeing a chiropractor. The ever-present question: Did she do the right thing?

The isolation of never being able to talk to anyone about it.

_~Fin_


End file.
